


heaven sent hell away

by mimiwrites



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26274466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimiwrites/pseuds/mimiwrites
Summary: Whenever sakusa found himself falling into the dark abyss, there was always one person who pulled him out.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 300





	heaven sent hell away

**Author's Note:**

> read this akira [fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18151748/chapters/42923129) and was inspired by the format

Sakusa was dying. He was sure of it, this time. He really was dying and this was it. He couldn’t breathe, why couldn’t he breathe?

[so many people]

He was crouched alone in the locker room after escaping the chaos, but it was still so loud. He could still feel their eyes. 

[look away look away look away]

Why were they all looking at him? All of their eyes, staring at him, he could almost feel their gaze physically all over his body. Why can’t they just look away?

[they're talking, talking about you]

It was so loud. It was impossibly loud. Every whisper sounded like a freight chain, every sigh was it screeching off the tracks, every laugh was it crashing against a cliff. 

[they're laughing at you]

He wanted to disappear. He wanted to cave in on himself. He wished he was a black hole so he could pull himself apart and absorb everything, even light and sound, until nothing was left. 

[disappear]

He wanted silence. It made his head hurt. 

[disappear]

The pressure in his head felt like someone was hitting him with a sledgehammer. 

[disa ]

The stinging of his palms made him blink back to reality. He’d been gripping his fists so tightly, little half-moon lines cut into his skin. 

[cut it all]

His fingers were antsy, and he swore there were bugs crawling beneath his skin, he could see them when he stretched out his hands. 

[cut them out]

He began scratching at his palms obsessively. The stinging pain felt like such a sweet relief. It hurt. So he did it again. And again. 

[and again]

The pain seemed to drown out the noise. It seemed so quiet all of a sudden. 

[they’ve left you]

Was everyone gone?

[you're alone]

His chest felt heavy. His throat was tight, he could feel broken glass when he tried to swallow. 

[you’re suffocating. you’re going to suffocate and no one will be here to watch]

He was still scratching at his hands and arms, tearing open old scars and recent scabs. They’d almost healed, but he had another episode. He’d been doing so well, it hadn’t been this bad since high school. 

[failure. pathetic. can’t you just stop? can’t you be normal?]

He wanted to be normal. 

[scratch scratch scratch]

Maybe he deserved to be alone—

[yes]

—it’s not like anyone would want to deal with him like this anyway. He was supposed to grow out of it, wasn’t he? He took his pills, he went to therapy, so why was this still happening? 

[you'll never get better]

[shut up]

Ugh. 

  
  
  
  
  


[disappear]

  
  
  
  
  


He was still scratching. He was bleeding, just a little now. His nails were short for volleyball, so they couldn’t do any real damage. But the incessant itching made his skin raw and red. He couldn’t stop now. 

[disgusting]

Warm hands grabbed his own and held them gently. Sakusa looked up with a start and found chestnut eyes staring back at him. He wanted to look away. 

[you've been caught]

What will Atsumu think of him?

[weak, disgusting, burden, pathetic, awful, annoying, ugly, horrible, ]

“You okay?” Atsumu asked softly. He rubbed his thumbs across the back of Sakusa’s hands. Sakusa wanted to pull them back and keep scratching. Atsumu’s hold on him was gentle, but firm. 

He did this before, in high school. At the first Youth Training Camp. And the next. He was the only one who knew his secret, apart from Komori. Sakusa was sure Atsumu would tease him about it, since he was such a brat. Or that he’d tell everyone about it. But he never did. He just held his hands as he was doing now. 

[he must think you’re pathetic. still doing this, huh? didn’t you grow out of it?]

It’s not like anything in particular set him off. Nothing about today’s event was different from others. He felt shame pool in his stomach with bile. 

[pathe ]

Atsumu rubbed his hands again, bringing him back. Grounding him. Sakusa remembered his training. He breathed in through his nose, held it, then released it slowly out of his mouth. He looked around the room, reminded himself where he was. He looked back at Atsumu, quiet and patient, such a rarity. He wondered how many other people got to see this side of him?

[a lot. you’re nothing special.]

Atsumu smiled at him. Not his usual cocky grin, or even the one he made after winning a point. This was something else entirely. Sakusa gave his hands a light squeeze. 

“There ya are,” Atsumu said. He sounded relieved. Maybe happy? No, impossible, he couldn’t...

“Stay with me, here,” Atsumu reminded him, rubbing his hands. It was like he was trying to put the warmth back inside of him. When did he get so cold?

Sakusa nodded and looked back into his eyes. He could stay there, at least. It was safe inside that gaze. There wasn’t judgement, or teasing, or anger, or frustration. He didn’t dare try and name what his look did hold. 

“Wanna get outta here, before everyone comes back?” Atsumu asked him. 

Sakusa nodded again. He didn’t trust himself to speak. He didn’t want to. Didn’t need to. 

Atsumu stood and pulled him up. Sakusa was taller, but his slouch put them nearly at eye level. Atsumu was still smiling. 

Atsumu let go of only one of his hands so that they could each grab their bags. He’d never held his hand like this before. Usually, after Sakusa had calmed down, he’d let go. Sakusa looked down at their intertwined fingers to make sure it was still real. Atsumu squeezed his hand, so he squeezed back. 

As they walked along an empty corridor toward the exit, Sakusa couldn’t help but feel light and airy. He usually hated being touched, but right now, it felt...nice. It felt nice because it was Atsumu. 

Atsumu, who understood him without speaking. Who had seen his mess and didn’t look away, didn’t run, didn’t laugh. He’d shown Sakusa his own mess more than a few times. It wasn’t a mess Sakusa felt the need to clean up. It was a part of Atsumu, just like his own mess was a part of him. 

With Atsumu, he didn’t feel the itch. 

With Atsumu, he didn’t feel the sting. 

It had happened without him even noticing. 

The darkness was still there, it didn’t miraculously go away. But it was bearable, now. He didn’t feel like he was drowning out at sea. He no longer felt so alone and hopeless. A new feeling bloomed in his chest, pushing back the other ones. No, not pushing back, but holding safe in its arms. It soothed his negative feelings, like they were a crying child. 

Oh, is this what love feels like?

[yes]


End file.
